


Careful

by storybycorey



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 02:27:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13401513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storybycorey/pseuds/storybycorey
Summary: “Yes, like this, God Mulder, like this.”  And tears prick his eyes, becauselike thisis all he knows how to do.





	Careful

He’s tentative, in the beginning. Glass breaks easily—he’s aware of this—and glass that took five years to blow, another couple to cool, well, yes. Glass breaks very, very easily. 

Must be careful in the beginning. With the glass. With her.

She’s sweet; of course she is. His little Scully—he’s dreamed of her like this. Soft and needy, eyelids fluttering, neck arching back and back. He threads her whimpers through his fingers and clutches them into his fists. They (the consortium, the smoking man, the monsters) can’t steal her away—she’s his now. _His_.

“Everything,” he presses against her skin, lips sliding from one taut coral peak to another, “This is everything. You. Everything.” 

“You,” she sighs, “You’ve always been…” Her skin is slick and her legs are spread.

It’s when he’s inside her he worries, because oh, oh Christ. It feels—her thighs, they wrap, around, around, around. Her breasts, back and forth, back and forth against his chest. His shoulders hurt where her nails bite deep, and he can’t—doesn’t know how to stop himself. 

She mustn’t know—how badly he needs this, how much of a big stupid hammer he is when he’s not in control. 

Be careful, be careful.

Oh God, oh fuck. She feels too good to be careful. She moans too desperately to be careful. She looks too much like an angel and grips his hair too tightly and is just too damn Scully-like and perfect beneath him to be careful. Being reckless is the only thing he’s capable of.

A hammer, a big stupid hammer—he pounds and he pounds and he pounds. Only there’s no glass shattering, her hands aren’t shoving him away. Instead, they’re pulling him closer, instead she’s absorbing his reckless thrusts and pressing her lips to his ear. “Yes, like this, God Mulder, like this.” And tears prick his eyes, because _like this_ is all he knows how to do. 

She comes. She doesn’t break; she comes. And he’s not sure how, because he’s broken every good thing he’s ever held in his hands except her. 

She kisses him after, slowly, lazily, across his jaw and on down to his chest, flicking out her tongue to see how his heartbeat tastes. “You don’t have to be careful with me, Mulder,” she murmurs, “I promise I’ll be strong enough for the both of us.”


End file.
